Here again how little did the speaker know how much earnest there was underlying this promise. The shimmer of heat rose from the pleasant roll of undulating country. The tranquil life of the veldt lay outspread around, peaceful, sunny, smiling; but—beneath?
“That’s all jolly fine,” rejoined Lamont disgustedly. “But he’s grown too knowing since he’s been at Gandela. I believe he smokes that we were ‘kidding’ him before.”
“Well, we’ll do it more to the purpose this time, and no mistake. Oh, don’t you bother about it, Lamont. We’ll get the biggest grin out of him we ever got yet. He shall earn his keep that way, by the Lord Harry!”
“It’ll have to be a big one then; I detest the chap. Well, I must be getting on. Two more rinderpest cases. What do you think of that?”
“Nothing. Wait till I get a little deeper here; and if all the cattle in Matabeleland were to snuff out, it wouldn’t matter.”
“Well, that’s what they’re going to do. This is a God-forsaken country, after all. So long.”
About an hour after Lamont had gone, two young Matabele came into the camp, and saluted pleasantly.
“Why, who are these, Inyovu?” asked Peters, seeing that in outward appearance they were the very image of his boy.
“They are my brothers, Nkose.”
“Your brothers? And what do they want?”